


Sir, That's My Emotional Support Demon

by aderyn_merch



Category: Sorcery of Thorns - Margaret Rogerson
Genre: BRB summoning my own emotional support demon..., panic attack cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aderyn_merch/pseuds/aderyn_merch
Summary: When Elisabeth experiences another panic attack, it's Silas that comes to the rescue.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Sir, That's My Emotional Support Demon

Elisabeth thought it was probably the whispering. It had been so long since she had passed by other people and noticed their stares. For months now, she hadn’t been very spectacular.  
Her life had taken on a rather stable pattern. She took classes at the Collegium, but she did not wear the blue robes of the junior librarians.   
She wasn’t going to be a Warden.  
Instead the sorcerors and archivists alike sought her out, asking her questions about their research. She was better than the library index, they all said. Because she knew not only titles, but content. Or at least, she could ask the library.  
A Sorceror by the name of Wilhelm Bartell had come to the capital a week ago hoping to learn more about his family’s history. He had promptly gotten lost in the halls of the Royal Library. When he managed to find his way out several hours later, the staff had advised him to summon Elisabeth before continuing his research. So Elisabeth walked to the library.  
And there was the whispering. It was on street corners, and in front of shops and carts. Somehow, after months and months, the city was talking about her again. And while she couldn’t hear what they were saying, she could tell from the tone and stares that it couldn’t be good.  
It felt like book lice were crawling up her back by the time she reached the library entrance. She let herself in, sweeping a hand over the back of her neck as if to brush the whispers off. But the rustle of books once she was inside was not as comforting as it usually was. It was the whisper of parchment and the rattling of chains and the creak of leather.   
Now her whole skin was crawling. She was supposed to wait for this Bartell character at the front desk but…  
She was in among the books. The rustles getting louder. Someone somewhere was talking. Too loud for a library.  
There was whispering. What were they whispering about?  
Leather creaked. Chains rattled.   
She wasn’t going to get out. She’d gone through the gates, and they never let anyone out. Not from–

She was on the floor of one of the aisles, her back against the bookcase. Something soft was nudging up against her. Something white. Silas, in cat form. He was butting his head against her chest and hands almost violently.   
She didn’t know what else to do. She started to pet him. Carefully, almost reverently at first. Silas was not a cat. He didn’t like being touched.   
But he was letting her–no insisting that she keep running her hands through his fur.   
Slowly her breathing calmed. The sounds of the library were just the sounds of the library. No one was whispering behind her back that she was insane. No one was coming with chains or leather ties to restrain her. She was not in an asylum. She was in a library. And she was safe.   
She let Silas go and sat up. “Thank you.”  
He gave a little murp in response.  
She didn’t ask how he knew that would work. He’d done it before, just not for her.  
“Is that your cat?” Someone asked.   
She looked up. A sorcerer–it had to be a sorcerer, no one else would wear a coat of that pattern– stood beside one of the wardens.   
“Yes.” It was the only acceptable answer.  
“I didn’t know they let cats in the library. He’s incredibly fluffy.” The sorcerer reached down. Silas hissed and arched his back.  
Elisabeth scooped Silas up and put him on her shoulder before things got bloody. “Are you Mister Bartell?” she asked.  
“Yes.”  
“Elisabeth Scrivener.”   
“I know,” Bartell had a bit of a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Talk of the town is that you’re ruining Nathaniel Thorn’s reputation permanently.”  
“I’m wha–“   
Silas smacked the side of her face with one soft paw.   
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Bartell continued, misinterpreting her confusion. “Thorn’s been trying to ruin his own reputation for years. Now. I’m told you’re the best guide to a Library a man can find.”  
“Oh. I mean, I suppose. When you say permanently¬–“  
“Excellent,” Bartell interrupted. “I’m trying to find a book by my great-great-great-great grandmother but I swear the shelves are moving around.” He took off, despite obviously not knowing anything about where he was going.  
Elisabeth looked at Silas. His yellow cat eyes didn’t even blink. He settled limp around her shoulders.  
“If Nathaniel is plotting something I… never mind.” She sighed. Silas wouldn’t tell.   
She went off to help a sorcerer navigate the library.

**Author's Note:**

> Meh. The pacing's weird, but oh well.


End file.
